


Assembly Line

by derwentian



Category: Syberia
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 21:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derwentian/pseuds/derwentian
Summary: A tribute to what seems to be a universal struggle in making those damn legs for Oscar.





	Assembly Line

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone I've talked to mentions having a hard time making Oscar's legs, and I always felt like there was a potential for some amusing conversations while you're messing around in the factory, so here we are.

The Voralberg case was supposed to be easy. Open and shut. A free day trip to the French Alps, essentially. Anna Voralberg had been perfectly cooperative and was ready to sign when Kate left New York. So, naturally, things spiraled out of control. And now Kate finds herself doing odd jobs for what appears to be a living automaton. His name is Oscar ( _not_ XZ2000), he was built to control the train Hans designed, and he’s missing his legs. None of this is as surprising as Kate thinks it should be, given how the Voralberg case has been developing over the course of the day. At this point she wouldn’t be surprised if this case really did take her all the way to Siberia (Syberia?). Just getting the factory running again was an ordeal in itself. The clockwork machinery was probably fairly self-explanatory to Anna Voralberg, but to Kate it’s not intuitive in the slightest. The fact that Hans never bothered to write anything down didn’t help matters. Surely someone could’ve taken the time to make an instruction manual… But with a bit (a lot) of trial and error, the Voralberg factory is once again ready to produce clockwork doodads. 

And thus Kate finds herself staring at a fairly complicated control panel without the faintest idea how to operate it. Kate had never seen the inside of a factory before today, but she had always assumed they were a bit more streamlined than this. Or at least, she had assumed they had labels for the four different kinds of levers and dials required to actually use the controls. The real question is whether all factories are like this, or if this is just a Voralberg thing. Hopefully she won’t have to find out. “Alright,” Kate murmurs to herself, taking a seat at the control panel. “I can figure this out. I passed the bar, how bad can it be?” 

The only part of the panel Kate can make heads or tails of is a slot that just so happens to be the right size for the punch card Oscar gave her. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly. At least the oddities of the day haven’t taken physics from her just yet. “Who uses punch cards these days, anyway…?” Everything about this factory is stuck in the past, really. She had to get a _water wheel_ going to power this place. Now for all these levers. What do they even do? Flipping the six levers in the upper corner of the control panel doesn’t seem to do anything (yet?) but intuition suggests Kate should flip the one that’s actually lit. “Hopefully all six aren’t supposed to be lit up. If something’s broken I don’t know what I’m going to do.” ...Maybe Oscar knows how to use this? He was built here, and he’s talked to the Voralbergs more than she has. He’s just a staircase away, and he won’t be going anywhere until this gets worked out anyway. It couldn’t hurt to ask, could it?  
\--  
The fact that Oscar apparently hasn’t moved an inch since Kate last saw him isn’t surprising, considering he has no legs, but it’s still a bit unnerving. Surely that wooden workbench can’t be comfortable. “Hey, Oscar.” The way Oscar’s head swivels around to face her could only be described as robotic (automatic?). It’s less unsettling than Kate figures it ought to be. “Hello again, Kate Walker.” Maybe she shouldn’t have introduced herself by her full name. That might get old. “This factory is pretty complex. I was wondering if maybe you know how to use the manufacturing line?” Oscar offers a stiff shrug. “I’m afraid not, Kate Walker. Such things are outside the scope of my design. I am a train engineer, not a factory worker.” That figures. “I just thought that maybe since you were built here…” 

Despite being unable to emote, Oscar manages to give off the impression of offense quite easily, especially when Kate inadvertently says something rude (which is often, lately). “Kate Walker, you were born in a hospital, were you not? And yet, I doubt you would know how to operate one. To assume so would be quite presumptuous on my part. ...Kate Walker.” How simultaneously roundabout and incredibly blunt. Just like everything else around here. “Right. My mistake. I’ll figure it out on my own, then.” With no further misconceptions to clear up, Oscar’s air of indignance dissipates just as quickly as it came. “Good luck, Kate Walker.”  
\--  
By some miracle (the grace of the late Anna, maybe) the manufacturing process is actually easier than it looks, and after a bit more prodding Kate has produced a very nice-looking pair of legs. There was no indication of what material to use, but Oscar is made of metal, so it stands to reason that his legs should be metal too. “Here are your legs, Oscar. I hope I haven’t made a mistake.” Kate’s victory is short-lived, however; a split second after she hands Oscar his legs, he shakes his head and hands them back. “These legs are incorrect, Kate Walker.” And just like that, things are complicated again. “Incorrect? What do you mean, incorrect? What’s wrong with them?” He did mention issues with some model of the legs, but surely he didn’t give her the wrong punch card?... “These legs are the correct model, but they have been made with the wrong material.” That’s not surprising, considering Kate took a wild guess. “Alright, I can fix that. Any idea what material I should use?” Oscar shrugs. “I am uncertain, Kate Walker.” Well, great. That’s helpful. “You don’t know what your legs are made of?” Oscar shrugs again, albeit more loosely than before. Maybe his joints are stiff (ha!). “Do you know what your legs are made of, Kate Walker? On an elemental level?” 

For a brief moment, Kate wishes her life had unfolded in such a way that she were a doctor and not a lawyer, just for the satisfaction of winning this exchange. But then, if she were a doctor none of this would be happening in the first place. “Alright, alright, I’m going to try again. Don’t go anywhere.” Oscar breaks from his rigid posture to lean back on the workbench, suddenly giving off an oddly casual air. “Where would I go? My place is here for now, Kate Walker.” Kate can’t help but feel that Oscar’s displaying some semblance of mercy by not pointing out how she neglected the fact that he currently has no legs with which to go. Catching her on three separate social blunders in the last half hour was enough for him, evidently. “Right. I’ll be back with some better legs in no time.”  
\--  
It was not, in fact, no time. After nearly an hour of failed attempts, Kate just so happened to remember seeing a diagram of the wood the Voralberg factory uses in a pamphlet she picked up at the inn. This revelation resulted in one correct pair of legs being constructed and five pairs of incorrect legs being thrown from the control panel’s balcony in a fit of frustration. Oscar had accepted the legs, thanked Kate, and then he simply got up and walked away like he hadn’t been confined to a workbench for the better part of two hours because Kate couldn’t figure out how to use a manufacturing line. Not to mention the fact that he’d surely been hanging from that scaffolding for days before Kate happened to show up. A patient man if there ever was one. 

And now the factory is empty, save for herself. Kate takes a moment to ponder how the building suddenly seems so much more lonesome. Derelict, even. It almost felt alive, while she was working the controls and giving it purpose again. Now the factory carries the same feeling of disrepair and abandonment that permeates Valadilene as a whole. Kate considers this for a moment more, then shakes it off. The buyout will fix all that, of course. Industry will return to Valadilene, along with its younger generations. The town won’t be hobbling along on its last legs anymore once she seals this deal. ...Assuming she can find Hans Voralberg. Maybe she ought to catch a train...

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback are appreciated.


End file.
